Finders Keepers
by SumGhai
Summary: After a strange "rock" from outer space lands in the backyard of Hinata House, Keitaro, Naru and the other residents investigate. When they subsequently cross paths with an intrepid group of explorers boldly going where no-one - from their universe - has gone before, hilarity ensues.
1. One

**One**

**Hinata House**  
**Hinata City**  
**Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan**

**14 June 2006, 1:37 pm local time**

"Now that," Keitaro declared, "was absolutely delicious."

"I'm glad you liked it, Senpai!" Shinobu glowed as she cleared the empty noodle bowl from the table.

Whilst the petite young cook with the deep dark blue hair hummed happily by the foaming kitchen sink, the ex-ronin-turned-archeology postdoc relaxed as he leant back in his chair, letting his mind wander. He figured that, between a hard morning's work marking undergraduate papers for his mentor Noriyasu Seta, his own continuing research and the usual duties required of the landlord of an all-girl's dormitory, he deserved a small break, the late lunch notwithstanding.

"Senpai, how is that paper you're editing coming along?" The cooked asked as she lifted a just-rinsed dish from under the tap.

"To be honest, I've only just started," the landlord sighed with a small grin. "There's quite a few journal submissions I'm reviewing right now, and I'm still waiting for Seta to send me the rest."

"You'll do well, Senpai!" Shinobu smiled back before returning to her cleaning. "_Ganbatte!_"

Keitaro chuckled as he acknowledged her encouragement with a nod, before deciding he'd help put away the dried dishes. As he opened the cupboard door, a thought suddenly came to mind.

"By the way, I think we've run out of mirin. We'll have to send somebody down to the store this afternoon."

"Oh, actually, Kitsune went down just after lunch already. She should be back soon."

"Sounds good."

As the last of the dishes were stacked and the benchtop wiped down, the two leaned against the counter for a moment's respite.

Keitaro peered out the window, admiring the the cloudless azure sky and the lush green of the lawn. A moderate distance beyond the glass pane, his wife was outside hanging up the laundry, her waist length auburn-brunette locks caressed softly in the gentle breeze that heralded early summer.

"I think Naru might need some help," he said. "Thanks for the lunch."

"Anytime, Senpai!"

With that, the landlord disappeared out the door.

**ooooo**

Down the ancient stone steps Keitaro scrambled, his slippers firmly setting foot in the crisp grass.

"Hang on, Naru, I've got this!" He called out to her, as a futon cover freed itself from the line and sailed through the wind. The wayward fabric was intercepted just in time, crumpling against his chest as he hurriedly gathered it up before it touched the ground.

"Good timing, Kei-kun," his wife called out to him above the wind. "I was beginning to think I've taken much more than I could handle."

"You know what they always say," Keitaro tossed the cover and allowed Naru to grab hold of the other end. "Many hands make light work."

Her cheeks reddened as she laughed.

"What?"

"I don't know," she giggled as they pegged the cloth back onto the line. "It's not something you'd usually say."

"What do you mean?" He asked as he reached back into a plastic box on the ground for more pegs.

Naru simply shrugged, leaving him a smile in passing before she picked out a T-shirt from the washing basket. All he could do was to shake his head to himself as he secured the last of the pegs, before helping himself to a damp bathing towel.

Thus, they settled into a steady rhythmic routine as they continued with the chore over the next half-hour, alternatively flattening out the wrinkled damp clothes from the basket and pinning them onto the lines.

As Keitaro bought a bathing towel to eye level, ready to flick over the woven plastic string, he caught a passing glance of Naru merrily labouring away, bringing a subtle smile to his face and his arms to a standstill. In quiet contemplation, he knew that eight years ago, it would have have occured to him that this fiery-spirited beauty would become his steadfast study partner, turn out to be the long-lost promise girl of his childhood, and eventually, a loving a doting wife. Sure, there had been a fair number of rough patches, but like their wild trip in Pararakelse years before, their relationship was an adventure itself.

With the flowers throughout the garden in full bloom, the cloudless sky of early summer and his wife contently weaving in and out amongst the hanging laundry, everything was just about perfect.

_Just about._

In the patch of sky just above Naru's twin hair antennae, Keitaro noticed a very faint white streak. For a moment he was prepared to dismiss it as a mere faraway cloud, but upon squinting for a better look he made out the outline of what appeared to be a glowing point of bright white light heading in their general direction.

"Keitaro?" his wife asked. "What's wrong?"

He pointed to just above the horizon. "What on earth is that?"

"Oh, silly Keitaro," she dismissed it after a quick glance. "It's probably just an airplane or something."

"Planes don't usually fly that close to the ground," he said, watching as the ball grew larger. "And they don't glow like that."

Exasperated, Naru turned around for another look. Their eyes widened and the color drained from the faces as they tried to make sense of the fast-approaching ball of fire and the growling rumble emanating from it.

Protective instincts kicking in, Keitaro's hand shot towards and gripped tightly onto his wife's wrist, and before they knew it, they had thrown themselves onto the ground, holding onto each other tightly in wait for the inevitable. And with a deafening roar, the fireball screamed past them, disappearing just past the stream north of the former inn complex.

When the dreaded moment of impact failed to come to pass, the couple stared at each other with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Had kami claimed them already, tragically barely a year after they happily wed?

The ground then rumbled, subtly at first and rising to a crescendo, before fading away. All that it had to show for it was the rattling of windows and the frantic twanging of the clothesline.

After what felt like an eternity, Keitaro and Naru finally struggled to their feet, panting in fear.

"Senpai! Naru-senpai!" Shinobu burst out of the door to the kitchen. "What happened?"

The young girl immediately plowed right into the landlord and his wife, almost in hysterics. They collapsed into an awkward and fearful embrace.

"We're okay, we're okay," Keitaro assured her, patting her gently.

This was immediately followed by more frantic shouting as the other tenants streamed right out of the house, from whatever they had been doing.

"Urashima! Are you alright?" A tall, reserved woman with a long flowing hime cut inquired, her voice stern but well-meaning with genuine concern. "What happened?"

"Everybody's okay, Motoko." Naru panted. Then, pointing into the distance, she added "Something just came flying at us, and headed towards the stream at the back of the house."

Keitaro nodded. "We should go take a look. See what the damage is."

**ooooo**

Arriving at the riverbank on the house side of the stream, the landlord and his tenants were greeted by a crater around the size of a very large inflatable pool, with what little surviving vegetation smouldering at the the edges.

Partially embedded in the soil and still warm from impact was what appeared to be a large, dark oversized pebble. With a helping hand from Naru and Motoko, Keitaro lowered himself down to take a closer look

"That was close," He exclaimed as he knelt down next to the strange meteorite. "If that thing had hit Hinata-Sou it would have taken out several rooms!"

"What is it, Senpai?" Shinobu peered in from the safety of the outer edge of the crater.

"Ara ara, it's large and round, like a watermelon from outer space!" A ditzy Okinawan with a cascade of deep brown tresses suggested.

"Stop being silly, Mutsumi-senpai," a petite blond American girl interjected as she folded her arms in annoyance. "It's just some stupid space rock."

"I've never seen a rock like this before," Keitaro wondered. In a lapse of judgement, he curiously reached out and touched it.

To his surprise, the strange rock was cool to the touch, and other than the soot and the dirt, the surface was incredibly smooth, almost as if deliberately _engineered_. Truth be told, even with years of accompanying Seta on digs in exotic locales, he was at a complete loss of words to describe what he had found-

"GAAAHH!"

There was a sudden blow to the back of his head, as if it had been _kicked_ by something - or _someone_, slamming his face right into the round rock.

"KEITAROOO!" An energetic dark-skinned exotic with bleached blonde hair in twin high ponytails leapt into the crater. "What'cha find this time?"

The landlord unplanted his face and scrambled to find his glasses. "Su! You really should cut back on the kicking."

"I can't help it, _big brother_," The princess of Molmol shrugged, before the nature of the rock caught her attention. "That's a really weird rock!"

"Yeah," Keitaro sighed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "We're doing to have to dig this out."

"Senpai, I'll go get the hand shovels and gloves from the garden shed-"

"Keitaro, is that even a good idea-"

"Shouldn't we call the police-"

"What's going on?"

The cacophony of dissenting voices were immediately silenced by the arrival of an aloof woman in her mid-thirties, aproned and with a cigarette hanging from her lips.

"Oh, Aun-I mean-Haruka, something just fell from the sky and made a big hole right here. I'm trying to figure out what it might be."

"Very interesting," Haruka sighed, as she found a nice elevated spot to sit down on, overlooking the impending "excavation" or sorts. "Well go on, let's see what this is."

A few minutes of frantic digging later, the rock was finally uncovered.

"This is very strange," Keitaro muttered. "It's as big as a roof box like the one on Seta's van, but it's rounded at one end and perfectly tapered at the other. And now that I've had a closer look...there seems to be very regular engraved markings on it..."

"Markings!?" shrieked a lanky, bespectacled girl with a charmeleon perched on her shoulder. "It must be ALIENS!"

Naru sighed and shook her head. "Not everything is a conspiracy theory, Ema-chan."

"Well," Keitaro finally announced, "I'm going to need a hand to move this pointed space rock thing out of the ground, so that I can fill in the ground again. Could someone lend me a hand?"

As a number of tenants helped the landlord and Su lift the rock out of the hole and began carrying it away, not a single person noticed that something had come loose and was left behind in the hole - a small curved panel of some exotic alloy, with an inscription barely legible from all the dirt and soot covering it:

**Class VII Remote Culture Study Probe**

**USS Odyssey, NX-94276**

* * *

Disclaimers:

- Love Hina is the creative work of Ken Akamatsu, whilst official Star Trek canon is the creative works of Gene Roddenberry and the property of CBS, Inc. / Paramount Pictures. The author of this fanfiction in no manner claims ownership of any aspect of the aforementioned original work(s).

- The USS Odyssey and its crew are original creations by the author.

- The content, storylines, characters and depictions of real-life persons in this story are fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.


	2. Two

**Two**

**USS Odyssey, NX-94276  
Intrepid-class Exploration Cruiser**

**Stardate 87450.9, 1425 hours shipboard time**

_Captain's Log, Stardate 87450.9. It has been six days since the __Odyssey departed from Aperture Station at Starbase 171 and entered the adjacent interphasic rift. Despite assurances from Dr. Tigan and Lieutenant Commander Remara that all possible measures are being undertaken to ensure the safety of our journey, there is a sense of anxiety amongst the majority of the crew, which has only been further exacerbated by a series of mysterious incidents plaguing the ship in the preceding days._

Captain Robin Zhang scrunched his face up in a most undignified manner, as he yawned and rolled his shoulders back before settling his moderate frame back into the creature comforts of his chair in the Ready Room. It had already been three-quarters of the one full hour he had allotted himself for the reviewing of various daily reports, yet he had barely finished his second one. He could swear that the piles of unread PADDs stacked haphazardly before him were growing by the minute.

Running his right hand through his short coarsely-cropped jet black hair, he allowed his head to sink into the hand, his cheek stretching and deforming ever-so-slightly into the palm as he eyed the final paragraph:

_…therefore, as a consequence of the unusually accelerated rate of wear and tear, it is my recommendation that the EPS taps in the starboard distribution node on deck 4 be replaced immediately, instead of deferring to the originally scheduled maintenance session next Wednesday at 1800 hours… _

Zhang nodded to himself as he tapped a number of colored rectangles on the tablet's LCARS display, deftly approving the withdrawal of the required components from the ship stores and posting a power disruption work notice to all departments on the affected area of the ship-

**_*boop-click*_**

"Enter!" Zhang called out as he quickly placed the mug back down.

As the panels parted with a subdued whoosh, a Cardassian Starfleet officer clutching a PADD eagerly with both hands ambled in.

"Captain, I've finished analyzing the scans obtained from the all the probes we've launched through the rift in the past two weeks. The results are here as requested."

"Let's see it, then," Zhang said as he accepted the tablet with one hand whilst taking a sip from a steaming mug of herbal tea with the other.

For the next few minutes, he scrolled through the report haltingly with the same thumb as the hand holding the PADD, skimming through various plots, graphs and tables. Then, something caught his eye, and he squinted briefly with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

"Interesting," he declared. "There's an M-class planet on the other side?"

"Indeed," the Cardassian nodded. "Moments before most of the probes disintegrated, sensor reading indicated an abundance of nitrogen and oxygen in the atmosphere, as well as significant quantities of liquid water and vegetation. Average ambient temperature is around twenty-five degrees Celsius."

"A textbook habitable planet perfect for most sentient species, don't you think, Mister Remara?"

"It seems so, Captain," the science officer confirmed. "Furthermore, one of the probes managed to detect and isolate in orbit a large number of synthetic compounds native to Sector 001-"

"-Earth-" Zhang blurted out.

"-yes, Earth. And specifically, titanium and polymer composites of the sort commonly used by your people to build spacecraft between the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries."

The captain furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned back into his chair in contemplation. "I suppose this means the rift Aperture Station opened is leading us back to the Earth of the past?"

"With all due respect, Captain," Remara cautioned, "I would not jump to such conclusions just yet. After all, there have been many cases of such spacecraft originating from Earth that have been found far into deep space, for instance, the UESPA _Friendship One_ probe found in the Delta Quadrant by the USS Voyager. For all we know, it could simply be contamination of an uninhabited planet by debris from another derelict Earth probe."

"What are the chances, though?" Zhang asked as he finished his tea. "Interphasic rifts aren't exactly commonly-occurring natural phenomena."

"But of course," the Cardassian admitted. "An alternative Earth is certainly another possibility. I can check the spectrometry readings again for any signs of quantum flux, if you like."

"That would most appreciated, Mister Remara-"

**_*boop*_**_ **"Sickbay to Captain Zhang," **_a delicate female voice interrupted over the comm.

"Go ahead, Dr. Tigan," the Captain answered.

**_"It's time for your scheduled inoculation, sir."_**

"Very well," Zhang rose and headed for the door. "I'm on my way."

**ooooo**

Zhang and Remara exited the turbolift, making their way down the corridors, the crisp beveled cool grey service panels, black arches and clean lines of Federation Starfleet technology flashing past the corners of their eyes.

In the distance, a small group of crewmen in similar standard-issue Starfleet duty uniforms gathered around one particular segment were working on some intricate circuitry glowing with an electric blue hue, the light splayed across their neatly-creased black split-bottom trousers and jackets as well as the broad mustard gold segmented fabric shoulders denoting them as Engineering personnel. In contrast, Zhang's command terracotta red and Remara's science cerulean blue stood out amidst the sea of mustard, the red warming the captain's golden-tan Asian tones the same way the blue chilled the Cardassian's grey skin.

"-that's the fourth time this week that's happened, isn't it?" the Cardassian inquired as they walked.

"I suspect it's just the grav plating acting up," the captain explained. "I've dispatched Chief Engineer K'vov to investigate, and Dr. Tigan is treating the injured crewmen."

"I see. However, as a precaution, I would recommend sealing the cargo bays for now, at least until I've remodulated the shields."

"Shields?" Zhang asked as they stepped through the door into sickbay.

"There is the possibility that the crossing the interphase may be causing fundamental changes in the laws of physics throughout the ship, and that the current modulation isn't isolating us properly from the effects."

The human sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "Until I see further evidence, hold off on the change. Aperture Station spent months devising the optimal configuration, and it wouldn't be wise to stray from it."

"Aye captain." Remara conceded.

The two were immediately approached by a petite female medical division officer with her honey brown hair tied back in a low bun and having the same blue shoulders on her uniform as the Cardassian. A tight series of spots ran down the sides of her head, from close to the forehead down to her neck – the unmistakable hallmark of a Trill. Her gentle childlike hands curled around a pair of hyposprays.

"Doctor," Zhang greeted as he bared to her his neck from the high collar of his uniform, and the Trill promptly pressed the bronze-domed tip of the device against it before pressing a button.

_Pzzt._

"Thank you," he nodded, and straightened his collar once more, whilst Dr. Tigan proceeded to do the same for Remara. "By the way, how are the crewmen holding up?"

Tigan turned to the biobeds lining the walls. "Minor fractures and bruises, sir. Petty Officer Nogura is awake but heavily medicated, whilst Crewmen T'Zantha and Golir are still unconscious. They should recover within a week, sir."

Zhang nodded. "I'll speak to K'vov and see if he can arrange for someone to cover for them whilst they recov-"

The sickbay doors suddenly burst open, and two crewmen rushed in carrying a screaming third.

"What just hap-" Remara spun around to the commotion. "Akorem! Are you alright?"

"I'M BURNING! I'M BURNING!" The science division crewman screamed helplessly, his face contorted in a mixture of excruciating pain and sheer terror as his usual complexion became completely awash with scarlett. "SPARE ME, PROPHETS! SPARE ME!"

"I don't know what happened," panicked one of the patient's friends, an Ensign in a security division red uniform and with the face and golden fur of a maneless lion. "We were in the mess hall when Akorem left to get something. When he didn't show up, we found him in his quarters like this."

"Get him on the main biobed," Dr. Tigan ordered, assertive yet gentle. "Kellat! Load a hypospray with 2 cc's of Metorapan."

"Yes, ma'am!" A Cardassian nurse answered from behind a cabinet.

Tigan quickly scanned the Bajoran crewman with a small, chunky flip-phone-like device, before shaking her head. "I don't understand…according to the tricorder, it appears that the water in his body is boiling."

"If we isolate him behind a forcefield and drop the temperature, it might help," the nurse suggested.

"Make it so," Zhang said as he and Remara turned to leave. "I'll be on the bridge if you need me."

**ooooo**

"Boiled alive?" Zhang wondered, passing corridor archways. "First the cargo bay accidents, then the deteriorating EPS conduits, and now this?"

"The inoculations are only good for protecting our neural pathways from interphasic travel," the science officer explained. "Other physical and physiological protection would require constant correction of the shield modulation, as you have seen."

"In that case," the captain stopped and turned to his subordinate, "Get started on those modifications as soon as you can."

"Aye captain."

"Captain," a Reman Engineering crewman interrupted them, "Chief Engineer K'vov wants to see you in Cargo Bay 2 on Deck 8, sir."

"Yes, what is it?"

"He said that you should come see it for yourself, sir," the crewman elaborated. Despite his bald head, pale grey mottled skin, pointed ears, sunken eyes, fangs and deep demonic-like voice giving him the appearance of a humanoid bat or vampire, anyone could have seen that he had every well-meaning intention.

"Lead on then, Ensign V'ruk."

**ooooo**

Standing outside Cargo Bay 2 was an Andorian male Engineering officer with a tricorder and miniature PADD, his imposing profile reminiscent of a man-sized Smurf version of Dolph Lundgren. A pair of antenna sprouted from his neatly-styled white hair, swaying and bending gently occasionally.

"What've we got, Vrin?" Zhang asked as he lead Remara and V'ruk to the doorway.

"I've checked the grav plating settings and actual measurements several times, Captain," the Chief Engineer explained. "I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, but…stay close to the doors, sir. It could be dangerous-"

_CRASH!_

Several assorted Starfleet cargo containers, previously all gathered and suspended on one wall, were suddenly flung to the opposite side, as if they fell from a great height. A brief moment later, the containers went flying back to the other side in the same violent manner.

"You're right," the captain conceded. "It's not the grav plating. Mister K'vov, seal this area off and make sure there's nothing volatile in those containers. If you have similar concerns with any other areas, you may also isolate them at your discretion-"

_WHUMP!_

The entire corridor suddenly shook, as if the ship had been hit by something. Panels and bulkheads groaned from the stress.

"Zhang to bridge!" he tapped his combadge. "What's going on?"

**_"We don't know, Cap,"_** a male voice answered over the comm, his usual confidence tempered with grave concern. **_"Gravitational sensor readings are going crazy up here-"_**

**_"Commander, I'm getting a lot of turbulence," _**a female voice added in the background. **_"I'm trying to compensate with the altitude controls and inertial dampeners-"_**

"I do believe we may be coming out of the rift!" Remara cautioned as he instinctively reached for a nearby arch to hold on. "It might be a good idea to grab on to something, sir!"

"Mister Richardson, have all hands brace for impact!" Zhang ordered.

Then came another sharp shudder, and several crates came flying out the door towards them before the world went black.

* * *

Disclaimers:

- Love Hina is the creative work of Ken Akamatsu, whilst official Star Trek canon is the creative works of Gene Roddenberry and the property of CBS, Inc. / Paramount Pictures. The author of this fanfiction in no manner claims ownership of any aspect of the aforementioned original work(s).

- The USS Odyssey and its crew are original creations by the author.

- The content, storylines, characters and depictions of real-life persons in this story are fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.


	3. Three

**Three  
**

"Damage report!"

Accompanied by the sound of a panel being forced open, Zhang's voice cut through the deafening silence of the pitch black darkness. After groping blindly for some time, the Captain finally laid a hand on what felt like a handrail, and guided himself towards it.

"Main power's offline. Backups must have been knocked out too," another voice emanated from somewhere below his left knee.

Just as he helped the other officer to his feet, the void was pierced by a series of scant flashes of illumination, flickering for a moment before finally settling and lighting the whole room, revealing the familiar curved walls, beams squared arches of the bridge. Stations beeped and hummed back to life, with crisp block shapes in various shades of cerulean blue appearing once more on LCARS computer panels.

Standing next to Zhang behind the handrails was a Caucasian male in his late twenties with short tousled brown hair and strong stubbled jawline, none the worse for wear thanks to his athletic build. Three gold pips adorned the right chest of his terracotta red command uniform.

"How'd you get up here so soon?" the officer - ostensibly Commander Richardson - asked Zhang.

"Crawled up all the way from Deck 4 through the Jefferies tubes, Tom old boy," the Captain chuckled and pointed to an dislodged floor panel nearby, before turning to help a female Andorian officer up from behind the Security/Tactical bridge station. "Turbolifts were knocked out."

"Life support and structural integrity's back, Captain," a Malaysian male in mustard gold operations uniform reported, pulling himself back on to his feet and peering at the flashing displays at the Ops station from behind his slightly overgrown Beatles mop top.

"Can we get the viewscreen back online?" Richardson inquired.

"I'll do what I can, sir," the operations officer said. "Sensors are still down."

Meanwhile, Zhang briskly strode over the the large crescent-shaped helm console just before the aforementioned viewscreen and approached a petite brunette in command red, currently slumped upright with her back against the station with a laceration across the fine porcelain skin of her forehead and bruised lip.

"Christine," he knelt down before her. "You okay?"

"A little bump on the head, sir. Nothing major."

"That's more than a little," Zhang gently brushed aside from the injury a wayward lock of long medium brown hair fallen from Christine's french twist, before turning towards the back of the bridge. "Casualty report!"

"All decks report minimal casualties, sir," a copper blonde female human in medical blue replied from before the Master Systems Display. "Good timing, Tom," she then quipped to Richardson.

"Heh," the Commander chuckled.

Shortly afterwards, Lieutenant Kellat and two orderlies came out of the turbolifts, Starfleet Medical Kits slung from their shoulders by straps.

**ooooo**

Filling in the crater was back-breaking work.

Keitaro sighed and wiped beads of sweat from his brow as he surveyed his current progress. A good part of three-quarters of an hour on, and nearly all of the deep brown loam had been put back into place. All that remained was a trip tomorrow to Shimachu for some lawn seeds, and then nature could take over.

With the shovel and gloves back in the garden shed, he limped his aching limbs back inside the house, up into the second floor of the North wing. A hot bath would most definitely be welcome.

As he made his way down the corridors of delicate Shōji screens and lacquered wooden floor planks, he allowed his mind to wander, completely oblivious to the fact that Naru was currently up on a ladder changing a lightbulb in that exact same walkway.

Hardly watching where he was going, the landlord stepped and slipped on a misplaced banana peel, stumbled before ploughing right into the ladder with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, firmly planting is face right between the auburn-brunette's mammary glands.

Their marital status notwithstanding, she did exactly what her instincts usually screamed for her to do.

"You..._PERVERT!_"

For the umpteenth time, Keitaro Urashima was slammed through the stone roof tiles and into orbit with a well-placed fist.

**ooooo**

"Look, c'mon, Christine," Zhang lowered the dermal regenerator in his hand in frustration. "If you would at least keep your head still I'll be done in less than a minute-"

"I'm telling you, it's just a little bump," the helm officer gently nudged him away annoyedly. "Stop babying me."

The captain sighed. "I only had a little bit left to go."

There was an awkward pause as she folded her arms. "Fine," she pouted. "Get it done."

Throughout the bridge, the medical personnel under Kellat had been treating everyone for minor injuries ranging from minor cuts to plasma burns from a sparking console. Two engineers were hunched over a myriad of glowing colored slides behind an access panel.

"Long range sensors are back online, sir," the Ops officer informed Zhang. "Just waiting on Ensign V'ruk's team to finish checking the viewscreen ODN relays."

"Thank you, Mister Ong." The captain acknowledged, before turning back to Christine's forehead. "Keep me informed."

He gently held the small wand-like device over the cut, watching as it shrank and faded back to her usual complexion.

"There." Zhang finally announced. "All done."

"Thanks," Christine curtly nodded before turning back to the helm console.

"By the way," we quipped as he put the regenerator back into the Medical carry case. "It it just me, or are your eyes now prettier than usual?"

"Robin Le-Ching Zhang," she spun around, fuming. "You really pick the worst times to make weird comments."

"I'm just saying," he shrugged. "You didn't look like this the last time-"

"GAH!"

In exasperation, she gave him a slightly more forceful nudge than usual -

- only to send him flying all the way to the back of the bridge, causing a man-sized dent in the starboard aft wall with a pronounced _BAMF_.

At that instant, everyone dropped what they were doing - in some cases, like the isolinear chip in V'ruk's hand, literally. Christine's usual stern composure gave way as she shrieked and recoiled in horror.

As Richardson helped peel him off the duranium panel, Zhang roared, "WHAT THE HELL?"

The brunette helm officer immediately slipped from the helm station stool, collapsing on her knees in an apparently anatomically impossible manner. "I...I d-didn't mean to...KYAAAAH!"

Much to the shock of all those gathered, two overflowing fountains of tears poured from her grey blue eyes as she wailed in a unusually exaggerated manner.

"Whoa," Richardson noted, "I've never seen anyone cry like that, much less Chris."

Somewhat cautiously, the female Andorian Security officer knelt down beside Christine and comforted her. "There, there. I'm sure Robin knows it was just an accident-"

"Viewscreen's online again," Ops officer Ong announced, before noticing a persistent beep from his console. "Erm, captain, sensors just picked up something."

"Onscreen," Zhang ordered as he patted down his uniform. Bridge crew ran back to their stations, with Christine - somewhat reluctantly - climbing back up into the helm station stool.

The trapezoid viewscreen flickered, revealing a large ball of blue, white, green and brown in the bottom left corner of the void of space, and a small white streak arcing from it towards them.

"Analysis, Miss Shran."

"Readings suggest a single rod-like object approximately two by zero point five metres, approaching our present position at over three-quarters impulse, bearing three one nine mark three two two," the Andorian consulted her own display.

"Could it be some sort of projectile?" Richardson wondered.

"We're not taking any chances," Zhang declared. "Go to Yellow Alert."

"Aye sir," Ong began working his console. "Shields at maximum."

"Impact in ten seconds!" Shran warned over an persistent klaxon.

"Divert power to forward shields!"

"Five seconds!"

"All hands, brace for impact!"

Knuckles clenched as hands instinctively gripped handrails, and breaths were held in dreaded anticipation.

Then...

...silence.

The collision klaxons cut out abruptly, replaced by the usual subdued beeps and whines of the bridge stations. Officers and crewmen looked around at each other, confused.

After what seemed like an eternity, Shran broke the silence.

"Sir," she paused as disbelief washed across her pale blue face. "I think it just slowed down...and fell back to wherever it came from."

The Andorian quickly stepped aside as Zhang strode over to her station for a closer look at her station display himself.

"But why would it do that?" he wondered.

"It might be some sort of primitive planetary defense grid with limited range," Christine mused from the helm station. "Or it might not have been fired intentionally."

"Whatever it is, we shouldn't get complacent, Cap," Richardson cautioned, tugging his uniform collar briskly.

"Very well. Stay on Yellow Alert," Zhang ordered. "Let's get a fix for our position."

Ong tapped the colored shapes of his station display before he found the answer. "Just under 0.1 light years from the aperture of the rift we came through, sir. Erm...hang on...this isn't possible!"

"Mister Ong?"

The Malay squinted. "Astrometrics are getting positive readings for all the planets in the Sol Star System, and there's an M-class planet just ahead of us, bearing three-"

"I see it," the captain cut to the chase. "Magnify."

The blue planet white streaks and earthy tones immediately filled the viewscreen.

"Earth!" Richardson exclaimed. "But how is this possible? Starbase 171 is hundreds of light years away from Sector 001!"

"We should hail Starfleet Command, sir," Christine suggested.

"Make it so, Miss Barber."

The brunette's danced her fingers across the touch panels, and waited.

"No response, sir. Nothing on our standard frequencies."

"Captain," Ong interrupted. "I'm getting large amounts of narrow band EM transmissions. Putting it on audio, sir."

Immediately, the bridge was awash with the strangest cacophony of dissenting voices and music:

_**"...**__**closes today at 114.94 Yen**_...is now Day seven of the FIFA World Cup, with Angola pitted against Mexi...barely two weeks after release, the Shakira single 'Hips Don't Lie' now top over 300,000 downlo...right now when you buy at Macy's, get 20% off selected apparel from...the death toll from the 6.3 magnitude quake in Java continues to rise following the...Chancho, when you are a man, sometimes you wear stretchy pants in your room. It's for fun..."

The color drained from Zhang's face as his eyes widened in realisation.

"Ah, shit."

* * *

**A/N:** How many anime / manga conventions the crew of the Odyssey are experiencing for the first time can you name?

Disclaimers:

- Love Hina is the creative work of Ken Akamatsu, whilst official Star Trek canon is the creative works of Gene Roddenberry and the property of CBS, Inc. / Paramount Pictures. The author of this fanfiction in no manner claims ownership of any aspect of the aforementioned original work(s).

- The USS Odyssey and its crew are original creations by the author.

- The content, storylines, characters and depictions of real-life persons in this story are fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.


	4. Four

**Four**

Stepping into Kaolla Suu's room was like entering another world.

In stark contrast to the orderly, if slightly monotonous, paper-thin translucent wall panels and lacquered wood flooring of traditional Japanese architecture, the princess of Molmol's private living space was the chaotic yet oddly harmonious epitome of allowing nature to take its course. From the compacted earth floor rose a myriad of shrubs, orchids and vine-encrusted trees, filling every nook and cranny whilst somehow unconstrained by the supposed confines of the standard nine-tatami double-rooms allocated to each tenant. With the room filled with the tranquil virgin rainforest ambience, leaves glistening with crystal-clear droplets of moisture and delicate shafts of light peering through numerous openings in the faux jungle canopy, anyone who had stumbled in would have been caught in an ethereal experience of an unspoiled Eden.

Yet none of this fazed the petite blonde teenager that was presently scampering merrily her way in, nonchalantly skipping over the occasional exposed root as she searched for her playmate.

"Hey Suu! Dinner's almost ready!"

Uncharacteristically, there was no response, other than the gentle splashing of the miniature waterfall and the humming of exotic creatures.

Weaving between the shrubs and brushing aside their low-hanging leaves, she ventured further into the room towards a clearing, and was greeted with the spectacle of various tools, circuit boards and laboratory equipment lying haphazardly around the coffin-sized space rock. Further back and squeezed between a dusty wooden desk and a second-hand bedroom chest was an old discoloured CRT computer monitor, on top of which was precariously propped an oscilloscope, a signal generator and what appeared to be a life-sized mechanical turtle, in that order. An unoccupied hammock slung lazily from two of the thickest tree trunks to the left.

Suddenly, with the rustle of leaves, a fair-haired yet dark-skinned girl hung herself before the blonde's face, inverted and holding onto a bunch of bananas.

"Sarah-chan, want some?" The boisterous resident offered her friend one of the yellow fruits.

"No thanks," Sarah sighed, before casting a glance at the rock. "What's up with that stupid rock, anyway?"

"Guess what I found!" Suu hopped down from the vine, landing in a simian-like crouch before straightening herself, nonchalantly tossing aside the leftover fruit and beckoning the American. "Come see!"

As the duo knelt down beside the rock, the exotic South Asian glided her heavily-tanned hands over the smooth surface, tracing random markings and seams as if search for something. Eventually, she fumbled open what appeared to be an access panel.

"That's no rock!" Sarah exclaimed, a mild shiver running down her spine. "It's some kind of machine or computer. But what idiot would make something like this?"

"Who knows?" Suu shrugged. "Pass the torch."

Despite the growing rumbling of her stomach, the blonde complied anyway, her curiosity piqued. This was nothing like the literally hundreds of oh-so-boring archaeological digs she had accompanied Papa on in her childhood.

Deep in the bowels of the not-rock and partially illuminated by a narrow cone of light were rows upon rows of coloured translucent rectangular blocks, around the size of oversized microscope slides and planted upright like soldiers standing at attention in a sea of cabling and strange contraptions. The vast majority were surprisingly clean, especially for something that had fell out of the sky and managed to bury itself in the ground earlier.

"This thing has hundreds of these cards!" Suu gleefully announced to her friend in her typically heavily-accented manner, before pulling one of said coloured blocks out, revealing the serpentine geometric patterns somehow etched within them. "I don't know what these do, but I stuck one of these inside Mecha Tama 50 and it ran so fast it burnt itself out."

"Well, it says 'Data Buffer', stupid," Sarah pouted. "Didn't you bother reading the labels?"

"Data Buffer? Does it taste good?"

The blonde dropped her torch-wielding hand and levelled a stare at her friend in frustration, annoyed at the latter's tendency to arbitrarily associate unfamiliar terms with food. This did little to dampen Suu's spirits, for she began rummaging gleefully through the hollow, pulling out more of the little plastic cards and scattering them everywhere, their wild fluorescent colours akin to candy from the local FamilyMart-

_***boop-beep bloop bloop-bloop-bloop***_

The remaining cards inside the cocoon suddenly flashed and glowed to life. Suu dropped one of the orange ones he was holding, surprised.

"Huh?"

_**"Warning. Unauthorised access to Isolinear Storage Assembly. Initiating molecular destruct protocol in ten seconds," **_a stern authoritative computerized female voice emanated from within the access panel.

"How strange," Suu pondered in her usual cheery obliviousness "I don't see a self-destruct button anywhere."

"You dummy! This isn't the time for that right now!" Sarah shrieked, snatching from Suu whatever cards she was still holding and jamming them back into their receptacles haphazardly.

_**"Five seconds."**_

"KYAAH!"

Now in full panic, they frantically dumped entire handfuls of the cards back into the opening.

**ooooo**

Zhang squinted at the little blinking cursor on the wall LCARS display. "That's it?"

"Correct, sir," Remara nodded. "Sensors localised the subspace transmission to somewhere along the coast of Sagami Bay, Central Japan before the signal was lost. The datastream is badly corrupted but the encodings match those used by Starfleet survey probes."

"So it's one of ours, huh?" A bemused looked fell across the captain as he took a step back, before he turned to his Tactical Officer. "Didn't we rig them to self-destruct upon orbital decay, Miss Barber?"

With arms folded and feet shuffling uneasily, the brunette looked away for a moment. The faint reddening of her porcelain complexion betrayed her embarrassment from her uncharacteristic outburst towards Zhang just earlier, made all the more awkward by the captain attempting to bring her into the discussion in some strange display of no ill feelings towards her.

"We did, sir. But it's possible the altitude sensor failed to trigger the molecular destruct package."

Zhang rubbed his fingertips over his mouth and chin, a less-than-dignified habitual response to such situations. "How close is Sagami Bay to the nearest population centre, Mister Remara?"

The Cardassian Science Officer consulted his PADD, briskly tapping and stroking graphics across the tablet's screen. From tensing of the scaled ridges along his protruded brow and the subtle budging of his deep set eyes, it was clear the answer had rather serious ramifications. When he eventually responded, he hesitantly enunciated each word in a strained manner.

"Captain, I do believe that for all intents and purposes, Sagami Bay _is_ considered to be a population centre."

A deathly silence fell upon the senior officers gathered in the conference room, save for the characteristic quiet hum of the Federation starship's life support systems, as the seriousness of the situation sank in. Nervous glances were traded. Even Security Chief Mirra Shran's usually playful weaving of her Andorian cranial antennae stopped.

Eventually, the Captain found his voice. "Suggestions?"

To Barber, the answer was obvious. "We get a transporter lock on the probe, and beam it aboard-"

"Christine, wait," Shran interrupted. "We don't even know it's exact location in the search area. And even if we did, we'd have to bring the _Odyssey_ down into a lower orbit and risk being detected by the native inhabitants."

"But leaving the probe behind isn't an option, either," Ong noted. "If any humans native to this time period find it, it might adversely affect their technological development. Anyone here heard about the Uxali?"

Bemused expressions appeared on several face. "The Oox-what?"

"The Uxali, from the Delta Quadrant. They found an old Earth probe, learned about antimatter from its databanks and accidentally caused a planetwide ecological disaster when they tried replicating the technology themselves. About 30 years ago _Voyager _had to help patch things up."

"But wouldn't attempting recovery potentially expose the locals to our presence anyway, and interfere with the natural progression of their society?" The Andorian countered.

As the heated exchange continued, Zhang sighed and turned to Richardson. "I hate the Prime Directive."

The First Officer was more than content to be his friend's sounding board. "Yeah, I know how you feel, Cap."

"My apologies," Remara interrupted, having remembered something. "I do believe everyone would be interested in the following."

Producing an Isolinear data chip and inserting it into an unassuming terminal next to the LCARS wall display, he bought up a pair of waveform plots, the curves pulsing and warping at regular intervals.

"At the Captain's suggestion earlier today, I took mass spectrometry readings of orbital debris native to this region of space, and measured the quantum resonance signature. Comparing this with a measurement from a sample of our ship's hull, I have discerned that there is a 4.7% difference in the frequen-"

"English please, Corat," Barber folded her arms in annoyance.

"-in other words, we're in a different quantum universe." Clearly, neither Remara or Barber got on terribly well with each other.

"So basically," Richardson verified, "this is a different universe, and so anything we do here wouldn't have any effect on our own timeline?"

"That is correct, Commander."

Barber habitually couldn't resist having the last word over the Cardassian. "We still have to observe the Prime Directive, though, and minimise any contact with the locals during the recovery."

"What if we sent an away team down to locate and tag the probe for beam-up?" Ong suggested. "If we could get to a lower orbit very briefly whenever we use the transporter, we could minimise exposure-"

Shran shook her head. "Still too risky, as their radar-."

"If we alter the shield modulation at regular intervals, it should be enough to scatter their radar and keep us hidden," the Science Officer proposed. "Of course, we'd only have narrow windows within the shield bubble to send the transporter matter stream, so timing would be absolutely critical."

"Sounds like a plan. Mister Remara, I'll leave the technical details to you," Zhang acknowledged, satisfied with the solution, before turning to the copper blonde in Sciences blue. "Counselor Klay, I recall you are well-versed with potential First Contact scenarios. See if you and Tom can make the necessary preparations for an away team by 2100 hours."

"Aye sir."

"Very well. Dismissed."

Barber sighed quietly to herself in relief as the rest of the officers dispersed, glad that the briefing was over. Noticing a faint shadowing hovering before one eye, she strode over to the window and used it as a mirror to check that she had brushed the wayward lock of hair out of the way.

A vague hand-like shape waved at her in the reflection, and she spun around just in time to see Zhang hanging around a little longer, then nodding in understanding that she wasn't joining him before slipping out between the automatic doors. Counselor Klay and Commander Richardson were last to leave, her gently laying a hand on his arm as they they conversed inaudibly yet amicably on their way out.

Also remaining were Tigan and Shran, both of whom were gathered around the sole replicator terminal. "Christine," the former beckoned her, in a manner similar to a young girl calling for her older sister. "Do you want anything?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

The Trill nodded, and upon her verbal request of "Three glasses of water, chilled," the beverages materialised with the swirling of glowing blue specks.

Shran gingerly held her glass with both hands as she took a somewhat feminine sip, savouring the refreshing coolness as it relieved the stuffiness from the briefing. "Lovely. Really gets the blood running."

"It does, doesn't it?" Tigan agreed. "It's been ages since we've actually got together like this."

"Yeah, well, everyone's been sort of busy, Lelania," Christine placed her empty glass back into the receptacle for recycling.

Tigan tilted her head slightly, as if to intone that nothing could be done about that, before changing the subject. "Did anyone honestly understood what Corat was on about?"

"No idea," Shran's antennae quivered as she shook her head. "I was never that good at science."

"It's not that hard," the brunette Tactical Officer flippantly remarked. "But honestly, everything about that Cardie annoys me - it's always modulate this, reverse the polarity of that, or Tachyon pulse whatever. Even Robin knows better than posturing science around like that!"

The Andorian Security Chief and the Trill Chief Medical Officer could only trade amused glances as Barber continued to rattle of a list of grievances against Remara, who had apparently gotten off on the wrong footing with their friend since that particular Docking Bay incident at Deep Space Nine over a year ago.

"...and just last week, he's been persistently pestering me to let him take holo-photos of my eyes because he claims to be 'curious about human ocular organs'!" Christine clawed air quotes to emphasise that last phrase. "The weirdo just wouldn't leave me alone!"

"Actually, that reminds me, girls," Tigan interrupted. "Just this morning I was on my way to Sickbay, when I ran into Doctor Mendez. For some reason he had a funny look on his face before he finally..."

"What?"

"..."

"Lelania?"

"Christine," the Trill approached her friend cautiously with a doe-like expression. "Do my eyes look big and pretty to you?"

* * *

Disclaimers:

- Love Hina is the creative work of Ken Akamatsu, whilst official Star Trek canon is the creative works of Gene Roddenberry and the property of CBS, Inc. / Paramount Pictures. The author of this fanfiction in no manner claims ownership of any aspect of the aforementioned original work(s).

- The USS Odyssey and its crew are original creations by the author.

- The content, storylines, characters and depictions of real-life persons in this story are fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.


End file.
